


Sunlight

by The Fink (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-10
Updated: 2006-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/The%20Fink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lazy days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butyoumight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/gifts).



Thankfully, it wasn’t raining.

Ringo sighed, his back pressed to the heated rooftop, soaking up the warmth from the frying pan surface, at the same time probably doing a great deal of sunburnt damage to his bare chest.

He didn’t care; it was nice, just taking a lazy catnap in the sun.

“Rich?”

The drummer cracked one eye open, hissing as the bright light invaded his vision. He blinked a few times before glancing over to the door, a slow smile spreading his lips as the figure came into focus. “’ere, George.”

The guitarist smiled gently, shielding his eyes with a hand and wandering over. He flopped down next to Ringo, resting back on his palms and tilting his face skyward, an almost smile gracing his features. “Nice day.”

Ringo nodded, slowly, reflexes lazy from the sun. He made a vaguely purr-like sound of agreement in his throat, turning over onto his side and facing the guitarist.

George glanced down, smiling softly. “How long have you been out here?”

“Dunno.” A shrug, a blink. “Why?”

“Because you’re all red.”

Ringo chuckled, shaking his head. “S’your fault if I’m burnt.”

“How d’you figure?”

Ringo sat up, swaying slightly at the blood rush to his head. He leaned back on his arms, mirroring George. “’Cause I was waiting for you.”

George blinked, looking down at the roof. “Oh.”

Ringo shook his head, sitting up properly and reaching into his pocket for his cigarette pack and matches, crossing his legs after. He slowly struck a match, watching it burn a moment before pressing it to the end of his cigarette, inhaling with an almost sigh. He waved the match out and turned to George, another cigarette already between his fingers.

“Ciggie?”

George blinked slowly, shaken from his very involved study of the patterns on the rooftop. He glanced at Ringo before taking the cigarette, nodding his thanks as he slipped it between his lips.

Ringo looked down at his matchbook, considering a moment before tossing them aside. He leaned closer to George, the other man catching on quickly and leaning forward himself, the tips of their cigarettes meeting.

Their eyes also met, and Ringo chuckled softly; pulling away when George’s cigarette was lit, smoke drifting slowly out his nose. “I don’t want it to rain.”

George looked the drummer over, exhaling a pale stream of smoke before he spoke. “Why?”

Ringo shrugged, crossing his arms over his legs. “Don’t want to go back inside.”

“Who says you’d have to?”

Ringo blinked, looking back over at his friend.

George scooted closer, brushing hips with the drummer. “Rain can be nice.”

Another slow smile graced Ringo face, following George’s lead and shifting closer himself; their shoulders pressed together. “How d’you figure?”

George looked over, meeting the other man’s eyes again. “Ever kissed someone in the rain?”

Ringo shook his head without breaking George’s gaze, smiling somewhat giddily,

“S’nice.”

“Too bad it’s not raining then.”

George looked down at his barely smoked cigarette, shaking his head slightly and flicking it off to the side. “Does it matter?”

“Not really.”


End file.
